About two years ago, it felt like we were never going to find a place to put down roots. We spent the better part of a year trying to decide where to live and when to make a move. Finally, we have bought our first house and in a few weeks we’ll be moving to start a new chapter of our lives. While I’m very excited for that new stage, I’d be lying if I didn’t say nostalgia was also riding high as we prepare to move.
I move to Melbourne for my first full time job, which came with plenty of other firsts. I met my husband here. We started our married life together here. We weathered covid in this city, in our first tiny, tiny apartment. I went through the loss of my father and the discovery of infertility here. The different places I’ve lived around the city each have memories attached to them. Now, it feels as is a chapter of my life is closing. Perhaps I feel the nostalgia particularly hard because it also feels as if it is the ‘youth’ chapter that is closing here.
I’m not moaning, truly. It’s just a fact. When I moved here, I was a 22-year-old university graduate, taking on her first job and first share house experience, all while hoping to come across my special someone. I leave Melbourne on the cusp of thirty, a married woman with a mortgage and only 10 months left before I get long service leave! I’m no longer in that early part of life when you’re just starting out. I’m officially in my garden-show-watching era and I’m not mad about it.
This new phase is exciting in its own way. I can’t wait to breath life back into the house we have bought. She’s been a bit neglected, but I think she’ll be just gorgeous once we’ve gone to work. And then there’s the garden. I have so many flower aspirations. Mainly, I am looking forward to being closer to my friends and family, diving deeper into socialising with all my favourite people again.
The nostalgia is strong
But I am a little sad at leaving, too. My husband and I have written a little list of our favourite cafes, walks and places to visit before we move out west. I will miss walking in this beautiful suburb and being so close to everything. It’s nice knowing all the local streets and the best places to get croissants. Our little apartment still fits us well, with a place for everything (just) and everything in its place (usually). When nostalgia hits, it’s easy to overlook our awful renter carpet and the very sad kitchen cabinets. It’s easy to forget the tangled venetian blinds (never again) and the annoyance of having your laundry in your bathroom.
Nostalgia can be problematic when you glorify the past and forget to enjoy the present and look forward to the future. However, I think it also has an important role to play. Because it makes you forget the bad and look at the good. I look around our apartment and I realise that for all its flaws, it has been a good place to live. You don’t need a parquet floor and a separate laundry to have a very nice and meaningful life. While there are struggles in life, there are also many good moments. Looking back, some of the darkest points were also the places we grew the most.
